A Good Soldier
by Murlyndsgirl
Summary: SWTOR Universe: A cyborg trooper seems the perfect new leader for the bereft HAVOC squad...but it is really wise to someone who can be programmed in charge? Follow a trooper's story as she discovers her past and tries to forge a future.


AN: All of us who love to write know there is more to the character than the opening scene can handle. Here is a trooper's story, for all of us who love troopers...

Thanks to my guild, the 21st Legion, on the Ebon Hawk, for their constant support and inspiration.

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_Coruscant_

"You wanted something, Jorgan?" the woman asked.

Sergeant Aric Jorgan frowned. The General had ordered some R&R for Havoc squad – all two remaining members – in quarters below the spaceport terminals above them. It wasn't the worse digs he'd ever been assigned, but quiet, it was not. Lift machinery operated on the far side of their east wall. The entire place rumbled.

But the lieutenant had heard his approach, barefoot, anyway.

Jorgan was Cathar; it was next to impossible to hear him when he didn't want to be heard. Granted, he wasn't exactly sneaking up on Bene'surat, yet she seemed to have heard him despite the lift rumble.

Cybernetics?

It was a reminder that, in the face of everything he'd gone through, he was still in a situation where he did not trust – could not trust. Cyborg units had been used by the Empire to kill his people, in droves. He didn't understand why the Republic not only tolerated them, they allowed them to be normal citizens. To his knowledge, they weren't even made to register for monitoring. But Cyb's could be programmed. They could be changed, in a heartbeat, from friend to foe.

The lieutenant looked up from the weapon she was calibrating. One of the cybernetic units on the side of her pale face blinked even as she looked him up and down. "What's wrong? Can't sleep?" She asked. Her tone seemed concerned on that last question.

_Don't trust it_, Jorgan reminded himself.

"This mission to the Jedi Temple…" he began. "It seems like a distraction. I know we were requested to look into the ruins, but there may be people who want to keep us from following those leads we just found."

Leads that would lead them to the rest of HAVOC squad: the ones who had defected.

"I don't like the detour either," Bene'surat agreed, snapping the panel on her assault rifle close and giving it a tap. Her gloves were off for this delicate work. He saw a sensor imbedded in the palm of her left hand.

How much of his CO was human, and how much was machine, he wondered.

She stood, and chambered the weapon, then slid it over her shoulder. "Orders are orders, Sergeant. If we start reading between those lines right now, we'll end up worse than Tavus."

"If there is something left to deal with in that temple, shouldn't the Jedi deal with it?" he asked.

She frowned. She was still wearing full armor, minus the gauntlets. She had intended to stay on duty while he rested. Did that mean that she, too, wasn't fully at ease here on Coruscant where they were supposed to be safe? What did she know?

"No one in the Republic ever hesitates to call on the Jedi when they need help…" she stated. She turned her head to look at him, eye to eye. "It's only fair that Republic soldiers come to their aid when they need it."

Jorgan sighed. True enough.

"Now get some sleep," she ordered. "Whatever is in the Temple won't be happy to see us."

He saluted, although she didn't see it. She was already on her way to the small kitchen in the quarters they were assigned. "Sir. Yes sir."

In the small "mess" hall, Bene'surat pulled open a refrigerator unit and frowned at the contents within. It wasn't the sandwiches, fruit drinks, nutri-cubes and fizz water that disturbed her, however. She grabbed a flavored fizz and closed the door. Jorgan was still on edge, even after weeks of combat together since his assignment to HAVOC on Ord Mantell. They'd been fighting back to back; pushing back street gangs and fishing out leads on Tarvus' whereabouts. In combat, he forgot his distrust. Truly, they were hell on wheels together. Never, in her limited memory, did she recall ever falling into such an easy combat style with any soldier before. It was a good omen; HAVOC would be crippled forever if they could not pull these missions off with style and efficiency.

But off duty…

She read his body language, having uploaded files to her inner cpu about the Cathar and their ways. Fortunately, some thorough Republic anthropologist had done years of study on the people – their history, their mannerisms, their tendencies. Two things were certain: Aric Jorgan did not trust his new commanding officer, and secondly, he was angry as hell.

She twisted the lid on the fizz and watched the tiny advertisement holo play along the top of the bottle.

She didn't blame Jorgan.

Couldn't.

She was younger, less experienced.

He'd been thoroughly screwed over by command. She thought of it again and again, and could not figure out why. Jorgan's performance on Ord Mantell was spot on. There was no way he was responsible in any way for what Tarvus did.

Yet, the demotion stood. And here he was, in all his pride, having to salute HER.

She took a long swig from the bottle, dimmed the lights, and walked back out into the small common area. Traffic buzzed past the window, a blur of speeder lights. Hues of pinks and reds played off her armor.

What if….what if Jorgan were right not to trust her?

She was made to be the perfect soldier; her cybernetic enhancements saw to that: Strength, reflexes, optical and oracle optimizations…and not a single remaining memory of her life as an ordinary human.

And not a word from who had done the deed …Bene'surat had no idea who had arranged for the changes. Had she needed them? Had she volunteered? She only knew she'd awakened on Balmorra in a Republic enclave with only her name and her enlistment. The medical droids that had tended her there held no records of her arrival. They did have, however, a cred chip with enough money to get her to the next world, and the address of the recruiting office.

She sighed, and shook her head. No, she pushed the self-doubt away. The best thing she could do right now is prove to Jorgan that he was wrong about her. She would be the leader HAVOC needed. Her brow furrowed as she considered her unknown past. Anyone out there who thought they could control her, cybernetics or not, she would prove them wrong as well. Dead wrong, if she had to.

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Please review! More story on the way!


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